Slowly growing closer, slowly coming apart
by kim-onka
Summary: "You won't even look at me." "Have I done this to you?" / A number of Force Bond meetings between Rey and Kylo/Ben post The Last Jedi, in which some of the events of the movie are discussed, some conclusions are reached, and some peace is sought after. Or, a way for me to get my thoughts and feels out. (In truth, it's not strictly romantic, or conclusive, but it's still Reylo.)
1. Chapter 1

[Edit: All right, I've been persuaded, there will be a second chapter.]

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* * *

From Crait Rey took with her the image of his kneeling form, of the dark-red circles under the eyes raised at her, not even in plea, only in silent defeat; she carried with her the sight of his abrupt movement as if to stand, promptly halted; she brought with her the expression on his face, behind the closing door.

Inside her an emptiness was growing, a void in a place where Rey had believed something could be.

* * *

It did not take long for her to feel the pull of the bond again.

The connection found her in her own quarters, lost in thought. Rey had still not gotten used to constant company; her spells of retreat into the familiar comfort of isolation were more frequent than her compatriots were used to, or than Rey herself would have liked. Yet habits died hard, and long-learned loneliness was not easily breached.

( _You're not alone._ )

Somehow, though, having Ben drawn into her loneliness was a different matter all together.

Especially now.

Once again, he was suddenly there, observing her wordlessly, and the awareness of his presence slowly drained away the brightness and enthusiasm Rey had been working up for the sake of the Resistance.

(It was not that her spirit was faked; but it was hard-won, and at times it was a relief to let it go.)

Then Ben turned his head away from her, in a sharp, decisive motion, and Rey was startled by how much it hurt. ( _Was it how it had hurt him?_ ) She opened her mouth to speak, yet words evaded; emotions swelled inside of her, yet there was no place to begin, no way of voicing them, no sound that would pass her throat.

She sat down a few feet away from him and fought back tears.

* * *

The next time, Rey was training with her staff.

She resolved to ignore him completely, to concentrate on the exercise; but she could feel Ben's eyes on her. The memory came to her unbidden of their brief alliance in Snoke's throne room, and a great sense of loss arrived with it. They had understood one another in a heartbeat, without thinking. Nothing even remotely close had ever happened to her before, and Rey was still unsure of what to make of it, of that utter and complete synchronisation, of that instinctive resonance – except that it had felt heartbreakingly _right_.

Even if she had not stopped to ponder it at the time.

(How had they come to that?)

* * *

One night she woke to the sight of him sitting with his back against her bed. Rey's first impulse was to scuttle away, yet the lack of reaction from Ben calmed down her instantly. For a few seconds she stared numbly at the looming figure and then turned her own back on him, curling up under the covers.

She did not sleep again that night.

* * *

The time after that Rey was prepared to wait the connection out in silence once more; but this once, Ben spoke.

"You won't even look at me," he said, and it was the tone and inflection of his voice that caught her before the words themselves: Rey recognised it. Their first connection on Ahch-to; the low, detached voice, the mild interest, the exact cadence as when he had said, _You do? Oh, you do._

(She hadn't.)

So Rey did look at him, fully, openly, searchingly. Ben was in terrible state. The circles under his eyes had darkened, his skin, in contrast, paled to the point of sickliness; it was evident he was exhausted, held together – if he was at all – by sheer strength in the Force, or perhaps the strength of his own resentment.

She looked on.

"Have I done this to you?" she asked quietly.

He gave no answer, but the expression that crossed his face was answer enough.

The acquainted, yet no less stinging helplessness assaulted Rey.

"I wanted to help you, Ben!" she cried, desperate to reach him.

His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Help me?" his voice rose now, too, dangerously. "You wanted to drag me on a leash to your precious Resistance! And when you saw you had no further use of me, you turned on me!"

The accusation struck Rey speechless.

"I—Was that—" _how it seemed to you?_ "That wasn't—!"

She stopped. _He is the only hope_ , her own words echoed back to her. _If I go to him, Ben Solo will turn._

And now Ben was looking at her with a mixture of emotions on his expressive face. Anger. Betrayal. Disappointment. Shame. Hurt.

Loneliness.

( _Neither are you._ )

"You had your victory," he said roughly. "But I won't be used any more. I'll destroy the Resistance."

"I won't let you," she answered in low voice, after a while; but he was already gone.

(His accusatory words stay with her, rooting deeper each time she ruminates over them.)

* * *

Rey was in a room full of people, and it chilled her to the bone; it was as if she were being caught at something illicit. The jolt of connection startled her into stuttering and tumbling over her words; she excused herself from the conversation, ignoring the surprised inquiry of the pilot she had been talking to.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched understanding show on his face.

"Rey? What's wrong?" Finn chased after her, radiating confusion and concern. "Did something happen?"

"No, no," she lied quickly, too quickly. "Don't worry," she added, and that, at least, was truthful. "It's just, I'll… I need to be alone for a while."

She nearly ran out of the room, accompanied by curious and worried stares. A few calls of "Rey!" and "What's wrong?" reached her; she disregarded them, bolting out the door and down the corridor. After a few minutes she reached a secluded part of the base, a small ledge overlooking a sheer drop. Hoping to the Force no-one would pursue her, Rey leant against the wall.

And there was Ben, standing right next to her.

"Did you run after me?" she asked absently, staring into the distance.

"They don't know, do they?" he asked her back, also without looking at her; what he was staringat, Rey could not say.

"No," she admitted. "Most of them don't know I was on the _Supremacy,_ either."

"Why not?"

For some reason it astounded her that he would not find it obvious.

"How was I supposed to tell them?"

"Are you asking me? They're your friends." Something about the way he said it evoked a wave of sadness in Rey's heart, sadness she was not prepared to deal with at the moment.

( _Neither are you._ )

"They wouldn't understand," she said morosely. "I barely understand it."

"What's there to understand?" he questioned harshly, turning to Rey. "Didn't you hear? You were manipulated into feeling compassion for a monster. The manipulator is dead, and you can walk away."

 _No._ The words _you're not a monster_ died on Rey's tongue in the sight of the pained anger on Ben's features. She settled for, "If that were all, you wouldn't be here."

"I'm not."

"Besides, he was manipulating you, too. Why aren't you walking away?"

"You know the answer."

"Say it."

Rey held his gaze evenly, without blinking.

"I have nowhere to go," he admitted at last, a note of bitterness distinctly pronounced in his voice. "Satisfied?"

"Come to me," she offered immediately.

"You mean the Resistance. No."

"I mean _me_ ," she insisted, lowering her voice.

"You," Ben retorted, "won't even tell your _friends_ how you were connected to me by no choice of your own, for fear they will reject you. So forgive me if I'm sceptical of your brilliant idea to bring me to them in person."

To that, Rey had no answer.

"I wonder what would happen," he continued, his voice lowering, "if I were to take your hand. Would they see me then? What would they say? Their Jedi, their shining beacon of hope, with the most hated enemy?"

The threat, or the quiet menace – which scared her more? Rey could not tell.

"You wouldn't," she whispered. "I know you wouldn't, Ben."

He flinched, ever so slightly; he knew she was right, she understood. Frustration flashed across his scarred face. He turned away from her, and Rey buried her own face in her hands.

Long after the bond had released them, Finn found her, still in the exact same position.

She told him nothing.

* * *

"Ben, I'm sorry," she said.

He watched her warily, glancing down from his advantageous height, and it struck Rey once more how wounded he must have been, to fear the connection so, and how lonely to keep returning for more.

"Are you," he said levelly, though the struggle showed clearly on his face.

"Yes, I am." Pause. "I only—" _I wanted to be the hero, since Luke Skywalker refused. I thought I could undo his failure of you._ "I thought, if I showed you someone believed in you—"

"And do you? _Do you?_ " he demanded.

"I did," she replied truthfully. "With all my heart."

Something flashed in Ben's eyes, yet he did not comment, waiting.

"But I ended up forcing your hand," she finished.

( _You decided his choice was made, when it was not!_ _)_

He was still gazing straight at her, intently, assessingly.

 _And you chose. You chose me._

 _And I didn't, I couldn't choose you. I couldn't follow through._

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

( _Did you create Kylo Ren?_ )

( _What did I create?_ )

* * *

 _The Force is not lifting rocks_ , she remembered fondly. Several stones traced intricate patterns in the air, circling one another, never colliding in their carefully coordinated dance.

Ben was seated cross-legged opposite from her, leaning slightly to the back, his lidded eyes fixed on the swirling stones as if hypnotised.

The air of extreme exhaustion lingered about him still.

A few times Rey almost began to speak, but each time she bit her tongue. She was loathe to disturb the silent refuge, the unique occasion when they could sit together in relative peace. Her thoughts returned to the island of Ahch-to; how different it had felt there, after the initial hostility. There, she had been alone, and by some miracle had managed to be alone together with him; there, for a very short moment, all the conflict had seemed removed from the space where there had been only the two of them.

It had been her who had disrupted the gradually building closeness by jumping onto the _Millenium Falcon_ and appearing at his door, and imposing on him a choice.

(Why did it have to be this way?)

Rey continued to turn the stones in the air.

* * *

The sharp divide between them was reiterated to Rey when the next time it was him who had company.

Ben glanced at her once, acknowledging her presence; he did not leave the room, nor did he show anything approaching the frantic fright she had experienced when the bond had open to her in a crowded room. Of course he did not; why would he? Was there anyone who would question the Supreme Leader, even if the connection became known? Was there anyone whose opinion of himself he would endanger by risking exposure?

( _Neither are you._ )

On the other hand, perhaps his aim was to demonstrate his power, to show her that he was not afraid of her overhearing top First Order business, since the Resistance was powerless in any case.

 _This is where he wanted me_ , she remembered. _He wanted to share it all with me_.

With a heavy heart, Rey watched him give orders and receive reports, while sadness slowly welled up in her. Sadness for his inability to understand why she could not accept his offer, for the loneliness they had jointly condemned him to.

The Supreme Leader seemed so different to the man she met through the Force, and it hurt to have to reconcile they were one and the same.

* * *

She saw him again at night, slumped against a wall. Still fully dressed, but with his clothes tousled and hair messy, Ben was breathing unevenly.

Rey took it all in, then spoke.

"Don't you sleep?" she asked, raising herself on one elbow.

His head rolled over to face her; in the darkness Rey noticed his eyes were unfocused.

"No," he replied.

"Why?"

"Monsters usually don't."

"I don't think that's right," she said, and the gentle tone of her words surprised her. "I don't believe monsters lose much sleep."

"Have you known many?" he questioned dryly, his head rolling back to stare numbly at the ceiling.

"You're not a monster, Ben," she blurted.

"I thought we were agreed." Exhaustion was heard clearly in his voice, even if Rey could somehow miss it in his countenance. Untangling herself from the blankets, she rose and approached him, forcing him to meet her eyes through the shadows.

"Ben, what's wrong?"

"Whatever could be wrong, I wonder?"

A blush of embarrassment crept up Rey's cheeks, mercifully obscured by the dark. _Right. Stupid question._

"No, I mean—" she hesitated, "at the moment."

He closed his eyes.

"Why do you care? Go back to sleep."

"I do care," she insisted. "Tell me, Ben."

A long sigh escaped his lips.

"I am now alone with my thoughts for the first time since I can remember," he admitted softly. "And I almost wish I wasn't."

Comprehension clenched Rey's heart; she stared at him, but he did not move, nor say any more. Carefully, she stepped towards him, crouched by his side, mindful not to startle him, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Why do you care," Ben mumbled, but Rey did not respond.

She sat with him through the night, only to wake up alone on the cold floor.

* * *

"It must have been a wonder to you," he said. Once again, his focus appeared to be on the stones swirling under her fingers. The exercise had an undeniably calming effect on both of them.

"It was," she conceded. "I had thought it was a legend, and now…" she gestured vaguely with her hand, sending the stones spiralling. He dodged them instinctively, evoking from her half a smile, which soon faded.

"What was it to you?"

He was silent for a long while before finally answering.

"It's… hard to say now. It was just there, and..." he trailed off. "There were times I thought it made me special. There were times I thought it was a curse, and I would've given anything to be rid of it all."

Rey nodded, although she realised it was not something she could truly comprehend, not without having lived through all those dark years he had. It surprised her to hear him continue, however hesitantly, forcing the words out of his throat.

"It was as if by the simple fact I was Force-sensitive, I was placed at a precipice, on an edge where I had to fight for balance every single moment, except it was not truly balance, and something kept pulling me… and if I misstepped once, I would fall. Then there was… Snoke..." he paused, wincing. "In the end, it was no use… I began to want to… let it go and soar, in the infinite darkness, instead of fighting to keep my feet on the ground. But that couldn't be, either," he finished bitterly.

The stones fell to the ground, forgotten, as Rey stared at him. He reached for them, but halted halfway through the motion and went on looking at them instead.

"No," she said, almost automatically, horrified. "No," she repeated, more forcefully. "No, Ben, you don't have to fall forever. It's still not too late. I'll help you."

"That's what you said before," he said, and Rey could tell the hurt and betrayal was still alive in his mind.

"I meant it," she insisted, but he only shot her a pained look. "In my vision—" she began, but he cut her off.

"Do you believe your vision was real?" he demanded. "Or was it another manipulation?"

Rey blinked.

"Do you believe _your_ vision was real, or were just saying that to—"

"I believed it was real," he stressed. "And you _know_ it's the truth."

( _You're not alone._ )

"I also know what I saw was real, and even it weren't, it wouldn't matter! Because what I truly know is that it's possible, vision or not, if you just—" her voice gave out, but she strode on. "—if you just come to me, Ben..."

Raw pain showed on his face, and beneath it she recognised longing, which, she knew, was mirrored in her own eyes.

"Please," she whispered.

At that, his expression changed instantly, closing off. He flinched away from her as if stung, and Rey was left with her a half-outstretched hand, leaning forward, frozen in a statue of hopeless sympathy.

( _Neither are you._ )

* * *

"You thought I was going to kill you," she stated. Tears were brimming her eyes, threatening to fall, but she kept her voice level. Ben was guarded again, visibly uncertain, displaying nothing of the fatigued resignation he had shown at night or the openness of his outburst about the Force.

At this point, Rey could not blame him.

She pressed on.

"What Snoke said… you thought our connection was something special, and it turned out to be a lie. A manipulation." _You felt cheated, exposed, hurt._ "When I reached for the lightsaber, you took it as confirmation that the bond was not… real." _You begged me, and I tricked you, made you believe I'd take your hand, as you'd taken mine._ "That I meant to kill you."

Every word she said, and those she did not, reflected clearly on his face; at the last, Ben's expression contorted.

"Why didn't you?" he demanded angrily. "Surely you knew that killing me could save your friends."

 _Why didn't I?_

Rey drew herself up and stared him straight in the face.

"Because," she stumbled, "because what she shared was genuine, and I, I _couldn't._ "

"Was it?" he challenged, desperation thinly veiled with ire.

"Yes," she said, decisively. "It was. It _is._ " She extended both her hands to him, eyes never leaving his features. Surprise, doubt, vulnerability, apprehension – all the emotions he had shown the first time she had offered her hand flickered on Ben's countenance.

"You didn't take my hand." Once more, his voice trembled.

"I didn't," Rey conceded cautiously. Then, in a frenzied attempt at getting through to him, she burst out, "Ben, my friends were dying!"

"Rey, I destroyed everything I had for you!" Ben shouted, finally shouted, and now Rey was really crying, and so was he, large tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I know," she mouthed through her choked throat.

"And you keep asking for more!"

"I know, I know, Ben, I'm sorry!" She hung her head. "I know I hurt you, but—what you asked—I couldn't—It was so much easier on Ahch-to," she muttered. "Then, I could pretend it was just the two of us, but now, now I can't, don't you see?"

"Yes," he whispered hoarsely, at length. "I do."

Rey sighed and began to pull her hands away, but in that moment Ben grasped them with both of his, fully and desperately, and yet with a delicacy that clutched at her heart. Quickly, she raised her eyes at him; his gaze was intense as ever, wounded and resigned.

Then Ben pressed his forehead against her hands, and Rey's heart broke all over again.


	2. Chapter 2

I believe this warrants an author's note… While writing the second chapter, I got temporarily stalled, and then I realised I would have raw material not for one, but two chapters. So there'll be a third chapter, and while I am aware that making such declarations is very dangerous, I have a reasonable expectation that it will be sooner than in a month.

The stuff about Force bonds comes in parts from Wookiepedia and what I had picked up over the last two years of being in the Reylo fandom, so it should bear some broad similarity to canon ;)

Enjoy!

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* * *

There was no vision this time; there was only the firm hold of Ben's large hands on hers, their palms pressed together, his forehead warm against her knuckles. Rey stared at the mass of black hair suddenly beneath her line of sight, feeling at a complete loss. Nothing in her life could have prepared her for the way he held onto her like a lifeline, and she had no idea how to handle it. Worse even – how to handle someone who treated her like this, yet still insisted on being her enemy.

( _You had your victory. But I won't be used any more._ )

The power she seemed to have over Ben disconcerted her, and Rey wondered when it had happened, at which point he had become this vulnerable to her – so much had passed between them, and to remember it, to remember who he was, and to see him in this position – it was chilling.

( _Neither are you._ )

She would grant him that, at least.

Ben clung onto her with desperation and borderline devotion that unravelled Rey's emotions completely, and so she sat with him until the connection faded, leaving her alone again.

* * *

"You saved me," she said. "Why wouldn't you help me save others?"

He glanced at her, and then away; in his face Rey read all the answers she had already known. The divide between them appeared deep and wide once more, too deep to breach and too wide to reach across.

"It's not as if you needed them dead," Rey went on, her voice raising as desperation surged inside of her. "I wasn't even asking you to join the Resistance. I was asking you to save people I care about! Only that!"

"Don't lie," Ben growled. "You wanted me to join the Resistance."

"What I _wanted_ ," she snapped, "was to help you turn back to the Light! To fight together with you! Yes, I assumed that would mean joining the Resistance! And they would've taken you in, I know they would—" He scowled at her; clearly, he did not care for the Resistance's acceptance. Rey strode on. "—I would make them, your mother would—" she faltered. "But at that moment, I only wanted to save them! And you could've done it so easily!"

"You wouldn't let them go!"

"I wouldn't see them dead! Why is this so hard to understand? Why?!" Anger choked her, tears of frustration threatened to trickle down her cheeks.

Ben regarded her wordlessly, his features darkened, his eyes pained.

"If I wanted power, power to rule, it would be save people! To make things better! I couldn't—couldn't take the power and—and leave people to die!"

"You can't make things better if you keep looking back!"

"You can't make things better if you ignore others, either." Now Rey was calm again, deflated with resignation. "If you really don't see that, as long as you don't see that… we can't fight together, not really."

( _We can't be together, not really._ )

His gaze was on her, regretful, watchful, hurt; but Rey would not soften that for him. Nor for herself.

"So that's how it'll be," she murmured. "You talk about letting the past die," she went on, louder. "Has it died?"

Ben's eyes narrowed.

"It hasn't," she answered her own question. "People may die, but your past is not something you'll get rid of so easily."

He glared at her, but there was worry there, too, and barely concealed fear; he was afraid Rey would not talk to him again, she understood.

(She would. She had offered him too much already; now was not the time to turn away.)

Rey sighed.

* * *

The next time Rey felt the familiar hum of the connection, she was eating together with Finn and Rose. She tensed; once again, her first instinct was to flee, as if staying would mean exposition – but unlike before, Rey forced herself to remain calm, coughing only a little over a bite of food. She would not panic.

She glanced meaningfully at Ben; his stare was blank.

( _They don't know, do they?_ )

Willing herself to ignore him, she smiled at Rose's excited face and swallowed with difficulty.

"Rey?" Finn. Was someone who had been forced to wear a mask all the time supposed to notice people's moods? "Is something wrong?"

"No," she answered, trying to sound casual. It wasn't even a lie, mostly thanks to his phrasing; even so, she was not sure if he believed her.

Rose stopped speaking and looked between Rey and Finn.

"Has something happened?" she asked with a bashful smile. The girl still seemed awed by the fact that she was in the presence of not one, but two heroes of the Resistance, whom she now officially called friends. Contrary to Finn, Rey was somewhat uncomfortable with this treatment, but she did not want to upset Rose by disputing her hero status. It was not that she did not understand why it made sense for people to view her this way; she simply could not get used to it.

"Rey's been jumpy for some time," Finn offered, saving Rey from having to answer. "I guess I'm overreacting at this point, myself!"

"You're just worried for your friend," Rose said, and Rey's lips curved in a smile once more, this time involuntarily. She remembered the jumbled and chaotic take she had been told of Finn and Rose's meeting and the journey they had embarked on. Even then, Finn had been trying to help her, as best he could.

"I appreciate it," she said sincerely. "But there's nothing to worry about, really."

(Was that a lie?)

She was acutely aware of Ben's eyes on her, of the way he listened to her every word.

( _What would they say?_ )

Finn nodded; he did not look wholly convinced, but neither did he pursue the issue. Rose, on the other hand, apparently took Rey's reassurance at face value and resumed the tale she had been narrating, something about her and her sister when they had been children.

( _They wouldn't understand._ )

( _What's there to understand?_ )

Her hand stopped halfway towards her plate. She wondered if he knew how difficult it had been for her to learn to eat so casually in the presence of others, or how strange it was still that there _was_ food anytime she was hungry. Was there anything he had seen in her mind that he was remembering now?

(Or was she overthinking it?)

He knew too much about her, too much she had not told him.

(And she about him.)

Rey rebelled. She lifted the food to her mouth, chewed, swallowed, consciously focusing her attention on Rose's story and away from Ben. Let him stare if he wished; she would not allow him to affect her, not here, not now.

( _I barely understand it._ )

She ate on.

* * *

They were sitting cross-legged on the floor, a position appropriate for meditation; Rey was almost sure Ben had been meditating when the bond had opened, but even if he had, upon the connection he had stopped, focusing entirely on her. Noticing his pose, she had sat down in front of him, mirroring it; their knees were almost touching, or would be if his legs had not been so much longer than hers.

(She had never tried meditating while the connection was open, and suddenly she wondered what it would feel like.)

The expression on his face was atypically distant, or perhaps the word she was looking for was _calm_ ; and so it was then that Rey decided to ask the question she had been ruminating over for quite some time.

"Do you think Snoke told the truth?" she inquired. "That he created this bond between us?"

Ben blinked at her, and she held her breath, hoping he would not take it the wrong way; and for once he seemed not to.

"I don't know," he said. "Such bonds between Force-sensitive people usually take a long time to form. In the old times they would often join a master and an apprentice, they are also common between family members."

"Well, we're neither."

"Yes, I'm aware. There are also accounts of bonds formed in more… dramatic circumstances."

"Dramatic?" If their circumstances were anything, they were definitely dramatic.

"Such as… being on the verge of death. Or when one person is a catalyst in the other's opening to the Force," he concluded, sending her a meaningful look.

"Opening to the Force," she repeated. "You mean, when you—when we?" It surprised her how difficult it was to speak of it; it brought back feelings she would rather not recall when talking to him.

( _Fear. Anger. The monster who kidnapped her and endangered her new friends. Ben._ )

Yet there had been something else, too – that jolt of energy which had passed between them, that flash of insight in which she had briefly seen him as something other than the enemy and the monster—and then the flash had passed, leaving Rey scared and unsettled in a whole new way.

"Yes," he said, watching her intently. "We were in each other's minds, and—"

"—that was the first time I've used the Force," she finished. Well, at least she was fairly sure the memory was no more pleasant to him; but that was not the important part. "I didn't know how to, I just suddenly… knew."

 _I saw it in your mind, didn't I? That was how I knew._

"I told you, remember?" Ben asked quietly, his searching gaze never leaving her face. The tone of his voice took Rey back; she did remember, and she had to suppress a shudder. "That I felt it, too."

( _Don't be afraid._ )

"I remember," she said shortly.

His eyes narrowed.

"Yes _,_ _"_ he said. "I remember, too. Nothing you were afraid I would do to you terrified you quite as much as the prospect of having anything in common with me."

Rey scowled at him. Of course he would go there.

"Does that surprise you?" she snapped.

"No, it doesn't," was his simple reply. _Well, of course._

"You're impossible," she growled. Briefly, Ben looked astonished; Rey half-smiled at that, but before he could say anything, she went on. "Returning to the original subject, if this happened when you invaded my mind… does it or does it not mean it wasn't Snoke's doing?"

"It doesn't necessarily," he admitted. "He did see my mind. It could've been him."

This time Rey could not stop the shiver that ran through her spine. Back then, she had not thought about Snoke being in her mind, as well – him, Kylo Ren being in her mind had been bad enough, but Snoke—

(Ben had had Snoke in his mind for just about his entire life.)

Something Rey could not quite identify flickered in his features, and she wondered if he had guessed her thoughts.

"However, _"_ he continued, "there are no accounts, to my knowledge, of anyone creating a bond between other people. Manipulating a bond they weren't a part of, and using it to their advantage, yes, but not creating it in the first place."

"Oh." She actually felt relieved, which probably made no sense at this point. "Do _you_ think it was Snoke who connected us?"

"No," he replied. "Not… not any more," he admitted a few heartbeats later.

Rey nodded.

"There is another thing." He was leaning forward now, and she had to tilt her head back to look him in the face. "The strength of the connection depends on the strength of those connected in the Force. And… it's still growing."

"Oh," she repeated. _Wonderful._

 _Just wonderful._

* * *

One night Rey woke to a weight on the side of her bed, and nearly leapt out of it; even with the bond, that kind of surprise was a bit too much.

She took a slow and deep breath, calming herself, and focused on her surroundings. Ben was kneeling by her bed near her legs, his head resting on crossed arms so that only a mass of dark tresses was visible. As Rey watched, he stirred slightly, and one side of his face came into view, the scar standing out angrily against his pale skin.

He was asleep, Rey realised with a start; somehow, this unnerved her. There he was, unaware of her watching him, bared before her even more than he usually was. One unpleasant association was his unconscious form in Snoke's throne room; yet this was different, more personal, more intimate in a way that Rey would rather had not been forced upon them by outside circumstances.

(She craved such intimacy between them, secretly, in the darkest hours of the night.)

(She watched him.)

(Had he looked at her, too, before he had fallen asleep?)

(The thought unsettled her.)

Ben slept uneasily; if he had not been woken by her movement, it was probably due to sheer exhaustion which, she supposed, had had to finally catch up with him. His breathing was uneven, his mouth partly open, his hair messy and sticking to his face.

(Had he slept like that when Luke Skywalker had stood over him, all those years ago? Or had he slept peacefully before that?)

(It occurred to Rey she could reach out and see into his mind, if she wanted to; see his dreams, the darkness and the light; but she could not, she would not, betray his trust in this manner. And it was weird to her still, that such trust could ever exist between them; yet there he was, sleeping in her presence, and this touched her profoundly, leaving her stunned.)

Barely daring to breathe, she sat frozen, afraid to wake him and at the same time equally afraid he would wake and catch her staring if she did not move.

(Slowly, she extended her hand and let it hover above his head, not bold enough to make contact.)

Rey watched him until the connection closed, and he never woke; and she never learnt if he was aware of her scrutiny.

Neither of them ever mentioned it.

* * *

"I didn't ask you to come," he said. Whether it was a challenge, a provocation, or a simple statement, Rey was beyond caring.

"No," she agreed amiably. "That was my wonderful idea. I get them sometimes."

Ben gazed into her eyes intently, searchingly; she looked back evenly.

"You regret it," he half-stated, half-asked.

"It could've gone better," she said, with carefully crafted nonchalance. "But it also could've gone much worse, I suppose."

"You were so sure," he said, and in his voice she heard wonder. "To risk so much—"

"I was," Rey conceded. "And I was right. And I wasn't."

Pause.

"What, has it finally occurred to you that I stood to lose something, too?" she asked, unable to keep the taunt from her voice.

Ben's expression shifted; of course, he knew. Rey had been tortured before his eyes, thrown around like a doll, reduced to complete powerlessness. _He_ could have killed her, although she had firmly believed he would not.

(There was a moment when her faith had wavered.)

His fists clenched.

"I never asked you to do that," he repeated.

"I know you didn't," she conceded once more. _You wouldn't ask me to save you,_ _b_ _ecause you don't believe_ _you_ _can be saved. You don't believe you're worth saving._ "It was all on me."

 _So much so that you won't even believe that was what I was trying to do._

* * *

Ben walked over to where she was seated, once again on the floor; she had intended to meditate, yet just as she had managed to calm her thoughts, the connection flared open, all the more overwhelming to her quietened mind. She glanced up at him, expecting him to sit opposite from her, as she had previously. Instead, Ben passed her without a word and seated himself behind her, with his back to hers.

Slowly and carefully, Rey leant against him until they were balanced against one another. She exhaled deeply, feeling the remnants of tension flee her body.

(Why could she only have this in secret?)

(There were times when the bond was a burden to her; at those times she remembered that it had been her who had offered him her hand, and that it had been her who had forced her impulsive escapade on him.)

(She felt responsible for how dependant he had become on her.)

(And unnerved by how attached she was becoming to him.)

* * *

"Ben," she began tentatively, gently. "What was it like?"

This was a question Rey had been reluctant to ask; she was wary both of his reaction and of what she might learn. Yet she had to know.

Ben glanced at her briefly, then looked away; she could tell he understood.

"It doesn't matter," he said dismissively, but his voice was strained. "It's in the past now."

"It does matter," she contested. "It's still affecting you."

"I killed him," he said, sounding as though he wanted to persuade himself.

"I know you did." _You killed Han Solo, too._

(She banished the thought from her mind; it was not the time for that.)

"'I'm rid of him," he insisted.

"You're not," Rey whispered. "I know you're not."

 _I know the past is not as easy to destroy as you would like to believe._

"Tell me," she implored him. "Please. What was it like for you?"

There was a stretch of silence, so long Rey began to doubt Ben would speak at all; but he did.

"I don't know," he answered, defeated.

"What do you mean, you don't—"

"Don't ask," he muttered, and in his voice there was a distinct undertone of a plea. Rey hesitated.

( _You keep asking for more!_ )

( _I know._ )

"I'd like to understand," she said softly.

Ben stared at her blankly for a while. Then, without a word, he extended a hand in her direction, open palm up.

( _You didn't take my hand._ )

Rey placed her hand in his, and his fingers closed around it, more roughly than before.

She gasped.

A weight crushed her, a shadow cloaked over the back of her mind, alien and insidious, clouding her thoughts, infusing each and every one; she panicked and fought for air, there was no place to hide, she was being stifled and the shadow—she did not know where it ended and her own mind began, so seamlessly it blended with the edges of her consciousness while remaining painfully foreign, and there was a faint echo of a scream and she recognised it was her, a part of her deep inside that could not be heard—

Ben released her hand, and Rey surfaced, panting shakily.

"Satisfied?" he asked testily, but she ignored it.

"And that—always—"

"It happened gradually," he mumbled, not meeting her eyes. "I didn't realise—no-one realised. But yes. I don't… remember anything different."

Rey became aware of tears streaming down her face.

"No-one..?"

"No," he cut her off. "Not until it was too late."

 _And then… Luke Skywalker..._

"It wasn't too late," she protested weakly. "It doesn't have to be this way. He's gone now."

Ben glared at her; he had just said told her that, hadn't he? They were going in circles.

Rey stared at him, trying to process what he had shown her. In her darkest imaginings she could not have envisioned anything like that; yet the worst part, maybe, was that grudging _I don't know._

(This is what he had overcome to save her.)

"You killed him," she said, knowing she was repeating after him. "You can be rid of it. You can come back."

( _I'll help you._ )

Ben shook his head, and she was not sure whether it was in negation, or to get her to drop the subject; Rey decided to let it slide. She yearned to comfort him, however she could; yet she understood there could be no true consolation, not now, not like this, not until he renounced the darkness he had been drawn into; and she was mindful of what she offered him, now, cautious of binding him closer to herself.

( _We can't be together, not really._ )

Even so, she had to do _something_.

Rey reached for Ben's hand, halting her movement just before making contact. He glanced down at her motion and back at her face, exactly as he had the first time, guarded and uncertain; Rey waited for him to reciprocate.

When he did, she lifted his hand and pressed it against her cheek, watching amazement bloom in his eyes, amidst the turmoil.


	3. Chapter 3

My thanks to everyone who supported and encouraged this story! Here's the end. Hey, I warned you.

For possible/eventual future Reylo content follow the author, who currently wants to be free of this pain (but will surely return to the subject anyway. Just not this story).

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* * *

Rey held the back of Ben's hand against her cheek, her mind in a strange state of disconnect, at once watching the expressions shifting on his features and racing with troubled thoughts.

If only there was something more she could do – something more she dared do.

If only – whatever there was between them, at once tentative and unsure and powerful and disconcertingly profound – if it could be allowed to develop without the nagging worry, at every step, whether this was the straw that would eventually break them – if this was the word, the touch that would leave them vulnerable and helpless.

(Rey did not want to have to break him.)

(She knew he would break before he could destroy her; and Ben knew that, as well, she was certain of it. He knew, and detested that knowledge.)

Rey allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment, to focus on the touch. After a while she sensed a movement – he drew closer, she understood. She opened her eyes to see Ben watching her intently, his other hand half-raised towards her; she glanced towards it and back at him, half-smiling despite the ache in her soul, and nodded slightly.

( _Who will be broken by this, you or me?_ )

Ben touched her other cheek, lightly wiping away the tears she had cried over his pain; the gesture caused her eyes to well up again, and she cried silently while he caressed her ever so softly.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked her quietly, and she could hear the frustration in his voice, the continued lack of comprehension, the underlying fear, barely masked by gentleness. "Why do you care?"

For a moment, Rey was too dumbstruck to find any words with which to answer him.

"You're not alone now," he continued, and it was true, she could not deny that she would never have turned to him if she had not felt so devastatingly lonely—

( _You're not alone._ _N_ _ot alone._ )

( _Neither are you._ )

(But he was; even with her, he was still alone.)

"You have friends here."

Rey blinked at him. _But not like you; you're not a friend, you're something different,_ or _, but you don't, and_ _now_ _I've seen you—_

"They're my friends, but you're… you," she murmured. "I… I've told, I _care_." _I want you by my side_ , she thought, and briefly it seemed to her as if he picked up the thought, or perhaps the sentiment; he frowned. "And—you—why are you doing this, Ben?"

Ben looked at her in a way that scared her. Yes, Rey knew why; she would not torment him by making him admit it.

"This is also—why," she whispered instead.

Ben flinched, as if slapped, and his fingers stilled on her face; he understood.

She squeezed his hand.

(She wished he would come to her side, more than anything in the world; yet if he were to turn, it could not be solely for her sake – Rey saw that now.)

* * *

"This won't last forever," she said.

Ben had once again sat with his back to her, and Rey felt him tense.

"I know," he answered shortly. Of course he knew, even if it was not pleasant to admit: their quiet meetings were a stolen interlude, in a way already doomed, already gone – at least, if all continued as it was.

(Rey was waiting for him to come to her, but time was limited.)

"We'll eventually meet again in person," she went on. "What will you do then?"

"What will you do? You've already spared me once."

She nodded. "I will... do what I have to do. I only hope I will have the strength to do it," she said, noting his uneasy twitch. "And that it will not be what I fear," she finished, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What you have to do," Ben repeated after her, slowly, drawing out the words. "What will you have to do? That depends also on you."

"And on you."

They fell back into silence.

"What about you?" Rey asked him again. "Will you be able to let the past die?" she demanded, an edge to her voice. _Am I stopping you from becoming what you're meant to be? How do you know what you're meant to be?_

"I wanted—"

"I know," she interrupted. "I know what you wanted, Ben. But it wasn't what I wanted." _Not that. Not like that._

She leant against him, tilting her head back, and sighed heavily. _And is it truly what you want, now?_ Rey thought he heard, or at least understood; she was almost certain she sensed his frustration and pained resignation.

"We'll have to find out," he said, eventually.

* * *

The bond flared open while Rey was lost in meditation, dazzling her mind's eye with light cloaking them both, bringing them together.

Once she had resolved to search for it, meditation allowed Rey to sense the bond easily: the multitude of links wrapping around her, distinct for their purpose and direction amongst the omnipresent connections binding all living things. She had imagined herself following the links to Ben, seeing how they wrapped around him, too, perhaps reaching out – she had not, however. For the time being she had been content with exploring the patterns and paths in the Force that stretched out between the two of them.

Now, however, Rey was finally seeing the bond come to life before her in all its complexity and vividness, and it stole her breath away. She felt Ben sit down opposite from her, more by the motions of the Force than by any physical sense; the tendrils of the links shone in the midst of the turmoil in him, the swirling darkness and the shy light – all stark clear to her perception.

 _Distress. Resistance._

The emotion flashed in him, sudden and intense, and Rey paused. Was she reaching too deep?

 _Challenge._

Abruptly, he opened himself up; power burst out of him, tendrils of darkness crept up the bright links, sparks of light stifled in their midst. Rey inhaled sharply, yet willed herself to remain calm, and rose to the challenge. The power clashed violently, then mixed and blended, blinding her with a mesh of light and darkness she did not know how to name; and she felt him again, at the other end of the bond, beside her, somehow closer than he should be in yet another way.

 _Shock. Rejection._

She recoiled as if from a punch, and felt him recoil as well; without thinking, she withdrew into herself, shutting the whole thing off.

She panted.

She was alone.

She had just shut him off.

She struggled to collect her thoughts.

She had just cut herself off of the connection.

She felt empty, she felt alone, and it _hurt._ Dread hit her with the force of a blaster bolt. Had she damaged the bond?

Numbly, Rey stared ahead, mustering the courage to reach out where she feared there would be nothing to find; but there was. The threads of the connection, so bright moments ago, were now dimmed, barely visible, the light in them fainter even than it had been in their inactive state – but they were untouched.

Rey had to know.

Cautiously, still shaken from the experience, she reached through the bond; Ben was there, right across from her, as if nothing had happened. He sensed and acknowledged her, shooting her a grim look.

"Satisfied?" he asked for the third time.

Rey shook her head wordlessly, staring at him; and she retreated, leaving the bond as it had originally been.

She had plenty to reflect upon.

* * *

The connection brought them together once more before Rey was ready – but when had she ever been ready for this? – yet it also filled her with unexpected relief: it had not been affected.

She went on with her training, carefully going through the positions and motions, the staff reassuringly in her hands. Thrust, lean away, swing, turn, blow: the familiar dance relaxed her, emptied her mind of worries, and Rey realised she did not mind Ben watching her – and he was, she knew without looking, with that intense, focused expression.

(Silence was always comfortable between them; and it was the easiest.)

When Ben spoke, however, his question took her completely by surprise.

"Where is the lightsabre?" he asked, and she heard the tension in his voice.

She stopped and turned to him, slowly. He had not asked about the sabre before.

"I haven't managed to fix it yet," she answered, somewhat bashfully.

"Fix it?"

Rey stared at him. _Oh._ He did not know. He genuinely did not know, and it had never occurred to her to tell him.

"It's broken," she said, looking him straight in the eyes. "We tore it in half."

A mixture of emotions crossed his features – a flash of shame, of relief, of regret.

"I thought you had given it to Skywalker," he said tonelessly.

 _Well, of course you did_.

( _When you had no further use of me, you turned on me!_ )

"No," she said, unnecessarily now, but she was gripped by the need to reassure him. Lowering her staff, she stepped towards him. "It wouldn't go to me. It broke. I collected the broken pieces. I was hoping to repair it, but I don't know where to begin."

Nervousness rose in her, which was annoying. There was no reason for her to feel guilty.

(Except there was.)

Now Ben appeared thoughtful, and hesitant, and a suspicion, or perhaps a hope, bloomed in Rey's mind.

"You could help me," she said slowly, in the tones of one who had just experienced an epiphany.

The look the threw her was full of hurt and faint resentment, yet there was a tiny glimmer of satisfaction, too: he had something to offer her, she was asking for his help. Rey could not bring herself to grudge him that satisfaction.

"Will you help me fix it, Ben? Please?" she added.

He took a deep breath, and Rey was reminded, abruptly and forcefully, of how much the lightsabre meant to him, how desperately he had fought to keep it. Doubt gripped her. Should she be asking that of him? Did she even comprehend what it was she asking of him?

( _You keep asking for more!_ )

Rey held her breath.

"Yes," he replied at length. "I'll help you."

"Thank you," she breathed. Her lips bent in a smile, warm with gratitude. "Thank you, Ben."

He looked away.

* * *

Rey saw him out of the corner of her eye; she was in a room with other Resistance members, and apparently Ben was similarly engaged, in so far as she could tell. He was arguing with someone, and the only acknowledgement gave her was a glance over his shoulder, timed perfectly with her own.

Even so, his presence was not so easily ignored – and she was certain Ben felt the same.

(It was one thing when they were alone, and another when one watched the other interact with people outside the bond; when both of them were occupied, and yet were still brought together like this, the sensation was downright surreal.)

(She could shut it off, she remembered; but now that Rey had learnt that the bond could be closed, she was oddly reluctant to do it.)

She did her best to tune him out, while absent-mindedly listening for the barely audible hum of the connection.

* * *

"You knew it could be controlled," she stated.

"I suspected," Ben conceded. "I told you—"

"You told me it could be _manipulated_. By Snoke."

"Yes," he said calmly. "Which meant it could be controlled. Opened and closed. Encouraged. By Snoke, and now by us."

He was right, she supposed; but it was also true that he had never mentioned the possibility of them controlling it, and Rey would know the reason.

"Have you done it before?" she demanded.

"No. I haven't."

Rey believed him.

"Why not?"

"Why aren't you doing it?" he returned. "Now you know how to."

She huffed in irritation. "Can't you give me a straight answer for once? You're supposed to be knowledgeable about the Force, so I'd expect you to, I don't know, experiment with it! You've seen what happened when I tried to mess with it," she added abashedly.

Ben clenched his fists; she sensed anger rising in him, but the anger was no directed at her – somehow, she was sure of it. His eyes narrowed. Was it the connection again? _There we go, always in circles._

"I didn't try to touch this bond," he said, pronouncing each word carefully and decisively, "because I wanted to keep it the way it was. Same as you. You could have looked into it anytime you wanted, but you didn't, it had to happen accidentally. And the reason you didn't is that you knew that if you acknowledged it could be controlled, you would feel obliged to control it. It was easier for you to treat it as something involuntary."

The sudden straightforwardness surprised Rey; she was not going to deny the truth of his words.

She stared at him.

"So what happens now?"

Ben tilted his head, as if to suggest that it was up to her, not him. _Of course._

( _Why are you doing this?_ )

"You asked me about the bond before," he said after a while. "But you didn't ask if it could be broken."

Rey had not. Now she believed she knew the answer. _I would have to tear out a part of myself, to be rid of it, to be rid of you. And it would never recover._ It had hurt to turn him away; perhaps she could learn to tune out his presence temporarily, but an attempt to permanently sever the connection she did not want to imagine.

Sorrow welled up in her at the memory of that loneliness and pain, as well as the ever-looming perspective of confrontation; Ben was correct, she would, eventually, have to decide whether to try and break the bond, now that she was aware that it could be broken, or at least permanently closed.

( _It won't last forever._ )

"Tell me," she requested, "and what if one of us… dies?"

His lips twisted at her phrasing, although she would not quite call it a smile.

"Then it will be broken," he answered, his dark eyes glistening.

 _And_ _I thought this could not be harder._ Overtaken by an urge to touch him again, to hold onto him for as long as she could, she extended her hands and he took them, a flash of relief crossing his face. And he was right, he took her meaning right – could he even get it wrong now, with the bond linking them ever closer? – that was Rey's decision, unchanged: to salvage whatever was possible, while it was still possible.

(He would accept anything from her, she knew.)

* * *

"I heard a voice in my head," she confessed. "There, in the snow."

(— _that look, from the forest—_ )

"It told me to kill you."

Ben watched her closely; she remembered him lying on the ground, in the snow, his expression had been—had surprised her, or would have if she had had the presence of mind to register it properly.

 _(_ _Kill him._ _)_

She remembered standing over him, lightsabre in hand.

"Would you have done it?" he asked in a low voice. "Your hate was palpable enough."

Rey had though about it before, long and hard, albeit reluctantly, too.

"I don't think so," she answered slowly.

"Why not?" _W_ _ere you connected to me then, did a part of you feel it already? The future you talk about?_

 _No, I don't think I did._

"I was trying to run away," she said, thoughtfully. "Finn was wounded. I wanted to be rid of you, yes…" she hesitated. "I had already struck you down, so the immediate threat was averted, and I had other matters to see to."

Silence.

"I was afraid of the voice," she admitted. "I didn't want to do what it said."

Silence.

 _I didn't want to strike you when you were already fallen, that was not what I wanted—I hated you, you were the monster of my nightmares, but I saw your eyes and I didn't want—_

"Rey, it's fine," Ben told her, quietly, reassuringly. "There's no need to worry about it."

Rey nodded, and suddenly laughed, hit by the absurdity of the situation; her laughter died quickly.

"Was that—"

"It could have been," he replied, keeping his tone carefully neutral. "Probably was."

Rey shuddered.

* * *

"They still don't know, do they? Your friends."

Rey's ears caught on the way he said the word _friends_ , yet again.

"No," she said wearily. "They don't."

"And they don't notice anything?" he demanded.

Rey sighed.

"They notice _something_ is off," she conceded. "They don't know what it is."

"What do you tell them?" he questioned, with an insistence that alarmed her.

"What is it," she asked, with a catch in her voice, "do you _want_ me to tell them about this?" _What happened to '_ _what would they say_ _'?"_

(Rey imagined she had a pretty good idea of what they might say, and it was not encouraging.)

"No," he said at once. _Of_ _course._ If this time together was all they could have, he would hate anyone else knowing about it, anyone else sharing the secret. That much was clear to Rey, yet there was something else there, something she did not see, for he was still visibly hesitating, trying to select his next words. "No, I don't want you to tell them. But..."

"But what?"

And then, in a flash of insight, Rey understood; she saw what he was trying to convey at the same exact moment as he began to speak, and she stared at him with her mouth open.

"It isolates you," he said. "Keeping secrets. A secret like that." _You'll grow apart from them. You already have._

Rey blinked. And— _Oh. Oh, of course._ Her eyes widened in disbelief; she wanted to object, to reject such a comparison, there was nothing, there could be nothing similar at all—

—except there was, and she felt like crying. Instead, since she had no idea how to respond to that, she sought for an answer to his question.

"I tell them it's nothing, or that I'm just stressed out, or that I need time to connect to the Force... the last one almost not being a lie," she said, realising as she did that that could well have been what he had said, again and again, until there had been so little trust left that Luke Skywalker had invaded his sleeping mind and tried to kill him for what he saw there. "I don't think they always believe me."

There did not seem to be more to say.

* * *

Neither was a good sleeper.

"I dreamt of the island," Rey said quietly, and felt Ben tense against her; she did not care. She snuggled against him with a comforting hum; this was something she would only do in the dead of night, in the grey shadows draping them both. "It was so hard to fall asleep, but the island… soothed me. I knew there was something waiting for me, there. There was a voice, too, telling me I wasn't alone… and I wanted to believe it, but then I woke up and I _was_ alone."

( _Not alone._ )

Ben listened, gradually relaxing, his stillness soaking up her words.

There were times when the connection terrified Rey in its depth and its strength; years of loneliness had left her secretly craving the closeness of another person and at the same time entirely unprepared to approach it, especially when the intimacy was thrust upon them in so short a time. And other times still she felt cheated that it would be him – that this extent of understanding between them had initially been taken by force, and if she had confided in him, it had been because there had been no-one else there.

( _You're not alone._ )

Thus now Rey told him of her life, of her lonely days on Jakku. She told him of her early days of scavenging, when she had been sent into places too small for adults to reach, of how she had realised she would do better on her own and succeeded. She told him of her monotonous days, of her exciting discoveries, of tasteless rations and of the stubborn waiting that strained her mind like a cord. She offered him everything he had already taken and more, and Ben accepted it in silence, huddled beside her on the floor of her room in the Resistance base.

* * *

(Perhaps they had been two people nobody had wanted, she thought.)

(But that was not true. There had been people waiting for him to return, and her—Finn had cared for her by then, and Han—her thoughts stopped at Han, too pained and too conflicted, and she wanted to cry out in frustration.)

(It was ever there, at the back of her head, together with the shock and despair she had felt, which never went away, even if some of her sadness was now directed at him. She could not forget. She would not.)

( _Everything I had waited for all my life, you threw away!_ _Couldn't you see how he loved you?_ )

(That was one of the things she would not say, for she knew the answer too well already; but she suspected he was aware what it was she was not saying.)

* * *

The repaired lightsabre flared to life in her hands, sky-blue as she remembered it.

She looked over at Ben, who was watching her carefully, with that keen focus of his; in his face she read the memory of their fight, and something approaching awe, which briefly took her breath away.

(The light of the sabre reflected in his eyes.)

"Thank you," she said softly.

"You needed something to defend yourself with," he said dismissively, but emotion rang loud in his voice.

The corners of her mouth rose in that half-smile he would evoke every now and then. _Defend myself from what? You?_

His face darkened, his hands curled into fists. "Rey," he spoke, and stopped. _Do you know what it is you're holding in your hands?_

( _Do you know what I've_ _surrendered_ _to you?_ )

Rey held his gaze; she switched the lightsabre off and slowly put it away. Covering the distance between them in a few steps, she held out her hands. Ben grabbed her by the elbows, drawing her closer; Rey had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

 _I think I do,_ she thought. _I think I know._

 _Then you know I won't be able to fight you._

Her fingers tightened around his arms; she looked into his eyes, dark and intense and full of conflict as his thoughts echoed in her mind.

( _Everything._ Everything except the one thing she truly wanted from him.)

 _Please_ , she thought simply, her whole mind radiating the plea, _please, Ben._ She took another step forward, slowly, hesitantly wrapping her arms around him; she craned her neck in an attempt to see his face, and what was reflected there took her aback. But when Ben closed his own arms around her, holding her close, one hand in her hair, she rested her head on his chest.

( _Who will be broken by this, you or me?_ )

 _Please_ , she thought again, with as much intensity as she could muster; a motion above her told her he shook his head, and a wisp of a thought, a feeling reached her, that clenched her heart.

 _(_ _You should have killed me._ _)_

* * *

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Rey's voices come from TFA novelization (which I admittedly have not read, just heard snippets of what's in it); Kylo Ren not knowing that the lightsaber was broken comes from Rian Johnson (yes, yes).

Thanks for reading!


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